gone
Leverett bride had imported that from London.

When the East Indian article had been consigned to an appropriate space,
it looked as much at home as if it had lived there half a century. Then
the parlor was shut up again, the mat in the hall shaken out, the front
door bolted. Miss Winn had asked for a hammer and chisel that she might
open one of the boxes.

"Take Silas. That is a man's work," said Chilian.

Cynthia was in the sitting-room, where it was still chilly enough to
have a fire. Eunice was knotting fringe for a bedspread, and it
interested the child wonderfully. She was not a little shocked to find a
child of nine knew nothing about sewing, had never hemmed ruffles, nor
done overseam, or knit, or it seemed anything useful.

"Why, when I was a little girl of your age I could spin in the little
wheel."

"What did you spin?"

"Why, thread, of course, linen thread made from flax."

"Were you a truly little girl?" in surprise.

"Why, child, don't you know anything?" Then Miss Eunice laughed softly
and patted the small shoulder, looking kindly into the wondering eyes.
There was no hurt in her tone and the words rather amused.

"I know a great many things. I can read some Latin, and I know about
Greece and its splendid heroes who conquered a good deal of the world.
There was Alexander the Great and Philip of Macedon. And Tamerlane, who
conquered nearly all Asia. And--and Confucius, the great man of China,
who was a wise philosopher, and wrote a bible----"

"Oh, no; not a bible!" interrupted Miss Eunice, horrified. "There is
only one Bible, my dear, and that is the Word of God."

"But the other is the bible of the Chinese, and some of them believe
Confucius was a god."

"That is quite impossible, my dear;" in a rather decisive, but still
gentle tone.

"And there is Brahma, and Vishnu, and there are ever so many gods in
India. The people pray to them. And temples. When they want anything
very much, they go and pray for it. There was a woman whose little son
was very ill, and if he lived he was going to be a great prince, or
something, and she gathered up her precious stones and her necklace and
took them to the temple for the god. Father sent an English doctor, but
they wouldn't let him see the little boy. He was so pretty, too. I used
to see him in the court."

"And did he live?" Miss Eunice asked, much interested.

"No; he didn't. And the father beat her for losing the jewels."

"You see, tho